The Pirate

Arrr me hearties!

…I dont know why I started with that. It’s Sunday. I apologise. I also kind of want to do it again. And with a nickname like the Pirate, I’m fairly certain that a few more terribly cliche moments will happen throughout this piece.

The Pirate and I worked together at my “day job”. He is not one of my finest moments, but rather one of those where you look back and actually cannot justify your choice of sexual partner beyond “seriously, I don’t know.” There was nothing wrong with Pirate he just so unbelievably was not my type. Good arms, I’ll give you that, and an amazing tattoo, but that was it. No abs. Huge messy red beard. Long hair that was thinning out in a major way. Somehow the sexual tension built at work until one day we just did it. Not at work, I cant actually remember the first time, when, where, WHY, but it happened.

And unlike my on/off again boyfriend at the time, the Pirate absolutely worshipped me. He also lived right next to work and had this mind blowing trick with his tongue. Please and thank you! I vividly remember getting on my knees to pay hommage in an out of the way spot at work one morning and very nearly getting busted. Still not sure if the whole affair was an actual secret or the worst kept secret, I know the Pirate told one guy there, who probably told everyone else in the true manner of men (huge gossips, dont you deny it!).

The wheels fell off after a few months when he started to get feelings and it all got a bit heavy for me and I backed out of there like the room was on fire.



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